


One of These Mornings

by skieswideopen



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skieswideopen/pseuds/skieswideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter's still not sure why Patrick keeps coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of These Mornings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadownashira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadownashira/gifts).



Watching Patrick get dressed on the mornings they were together was one of Walter's secret pleasures. Pants, shirt, vest, jacket. Uniform and costume and armour all in one, no less than the expensive, showy suits Walter had seen Patrick wearing in the television clips that he had once tracked down (well, had his staff track down) on a whim. No less than Walter's own clothing, every piece chosen for the impression it would give.

Patrick flashed a knowing smile in Walter's direction as he fastened the last buttons on his shirt. He didn't make a show of it--at least not more than he did with anything else--but he clearly knew he was being watched. Probably knew better than Walter himself what Walter was getting out of it. That was part of the appeal of being intimately involved with Patrick Jane; it was impossible to hide anything. Walter suspected that the pleasure of that might pale in time--that he might eventually start to chafe at the imbalance in their relationship--but for now it was different. Stimulating. A new experience.

Walter adored new experiences.

It wasn't just that, of course, he assured himself as Patrick slipped on his vest. Oh, in the beginning maybe. Patrick's arrogant certainty had been a big draw at first, had intrigued Walter as he was rarely intrigued these days. (The blond good looks and the smile hadn't hurt either.) But it was more than that now. He'd developed real affection for Patrick. More than he'd expected. More than...well, more than he'd felt for anyone in a while. He didn't dare use the word _love_ even in his own head--he was sure Patrick would know if he did and that wasn't a conversation he wanted to have just now, for all sorts of reasons--but there was definite fondness.

Patrick reached for his jacket, and for a moment Walter contemplated trying to persuade him to reverse the whole process and come back to bed. Watching Patrick undress was almost as much fun as watching him dress, and the payoff was much more satisfying. But then he gave up the thought with a sigh. He had a busy morning ahead, including a couple of meetings he really shouldn't miss.

"Wouldn't have worked anyway," Patrick said, tugging on his sleeves. 

"What wouldn't have worked?" Walter asked innocently.

Patrick gave him an amused look before turning to check his appearance in the mirror. The early morning sun lit his profile in a way that made Walter wish he _had_ tried to lure Patrick back into bed.

Too late now. He propped himself up a little higher against the headboard and crossed his arms behind his head. "Dinner tonight?"

Patrick shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Tomorrow night, then," Walter persisted. "We can stay in."

The stayed in most nights--when they saw each other at all--in deference to Patrick's paranoia. Not that he was entirely unjustified, of course. Walter had read the Red John files; he knew that to court Patrick Jane was to court death, even if one did have the best security system known to man. Patrick was clearly bothered by the risk; Walter...Walter would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the thrill just a little. He'd known other people who wanted to kill him, but none who were so likely to actually turn desire into action. It added a touch of excitement to their dates.

Patrick kept his gaze on the mirror, and fiddled with his suit, clearly torn between wanting to say yes and feeling like he ought to say no. Walter savoured the moment; it rarely happened, and was the only real sign he ever got that Patrick was with him for more than...well, Walter had never quite figured out why Patrick was with him. The obvious, of course, but sex was easy to come by, especially for someone like Patrick. He could have been taken care of in a dozen less risky ways. It wasn't money or power--Patrick didn't care about those things and if he had, he could have acquired them on his own. So something else, then. Something that had led him to show up on Walter's doorstep with a bottle of Scotch and an invitation the night after Walter accepted that Teresa was never going to acquiesce. That led him to tolerate Walter calling him Patrick when everyone else called him Jane. That led him to contact Walter on particularly good and particularly bad days, texting hotel room numbers from burner phones like a modern spy novel.

And Walter came running. Nearly always. Because what else were private jets for?

"Tomorrow night," Patrick said at last. "Somewhere else."

"All right," Walter said agreeably. He wondered if he could sneak in a gourmet meal for two somehow. Sacramento had a few decent restaurants...

***

Patrick was waiting for him when Walter got to the hotel room. He'd stripped off his jacket and vest, depriving Walter of the pleasure of watching him remove them, but that didn't matter because he jumped Walter almost as soon as he entered the room, kissing him with a fierceness that was almost painful.

Bad day, Walter interpreted as he returned the kiss. But not a worst day. Worst days meant Patrick texted a cancellation. Or simply didn't show up at all, although he'd only done that once, and Walter thought that his reaction to that particular event had probably been enough to prevent a repeat occurrence.

He waited until they were naked and in bed before asking. His track record on getting an actual answer was about fifty-fifty; today turned out to be one of the non-answer days.

"This can't go on," Patrick said. 

"I think it's going pretty well," Walter said reasonably, heroically not pointing out that this wasn't even close to what he had asked.

"You're going to get hurt."

"Have you ever thought that maybe you're misjudging the nature of Red John's interest in you?" Walter asked, raising his head to look down at Patrick. "I mean, he clearly wants you chasing him, but does he really care what you do in your off-hours?"

"That's not what I mean," Patrick said seriously. He looked up at Walter, meeting his gaze directly. "One of these days I'm going to catch Red John."

"I don't doubt it."

"And when I do, I'm going to kill him." Natural tone, as if it were obvious. As if death...as if _murder_ were the only possible conclusion to this long chase. 

Maybe it was. "Okay."

A look of impatience flickered across Patrick's face. "Lisbon has sworn she'll arrest me if I do."

"Then I guess you'd better not get caught," Walter said.

"But you see, that's the thing," Patrick said. "I don't care if I get caught. I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in prison. All I care about is seeing Red John dead. If it means sacrificing my life to do it--"

"Sure," Walter said and tried not to feel hurt. He told himself he'd feel the same way if someone had done to Marie what Red John had done to Patrick's wife and daughter. Back when he'd still had Marie. Back when Marie had been someone else entirely. "But are you really going to make that your first plan? I mean, Red John's a serial killer who has it in for you. Couldn't you just make it look like self-defence or something?"

"Not if it means there's the slightest chance Red John will get away. I won't risk that."

"I see." Walter lay down again, sliding over until he was flush against Patrick's side. He could feel Patrick force himself to relax, to not pull away. Payment and apology for what he'd just said. 

They'd probably be tired of each other by then anyway. Walter's relationships never lasted long. He imagined the arguments leading up to the break-up would be sarcastic on Patrick's part and loud on his, and then finally there would be anger and tears and relief. And then Patrick could get himself locked up if he liked.

Sure.

No one got into as many failed marriages as Walter had without a penchant for self-deception.

He slid his head a little closer; buried his face in blond curls and breathed deep. "I'd lie, you know," he said.

"What?"

"If you needed an alibi. If you managed to kill Red John without witnesses, I'd lie for you." It was an exciting thought, lying to the police. Seeing how good he was. What he could get away with. And if it failed, well, he could afford a good lawyer. Or a couple of good law firms.

Patrick was silent next to him for so long Walter started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He lifted his head just a little to check.

Patrick turned away from him. "I'll try." 

"Try?"

"Not to get caught. I'll try not to get caught, as long as it doesn't endanger my chances of getting Red John." He closed his eyes, still facing away from Walter, but he didn't flinch when Walter slid an arm around him.

"I'd appreciate that," Walter said lightly, laying back. "Trials are tedious, and I'd feel compelled to attend yours if we were still dating." A daring word. They've never labelled this thing before. They haven't really needed to, when they hardly ever ventured forth from their hotel rooms.

"Really?"

"Well, I'd be paying for your attorneys. I'd want to make sure I was getting my money's worth."

"Naturally," Patrick agreed. "But you know, I could pay for my own defense. That would spare you the need to attend."

"But imagine what the tabloids would say then. People would think I was a heartless bastard if I didn't show up for your trial."

"That could be to your advantage," Patrick said. "Ruthlessness is an asset in business."

"I like it better when they underestimate me," Walter said. "I find their shock when they realize they were wrong very gratifying."

"Of course you do," Patrick murmured. 

Walter had thought Patrick would balk at the word dating, but he hadn't. It hadn't even drawn a comment. It made him pull out other possibilities that he rarely considered. Like going on actual dates, in public. Taking Patrick places. Getting his opinion on some of Walter's business associates.

Of course, the only way Patrick would agree to any of that was if Red John were gone. That was a problem. A problem that might perhaps be solved with more resources. (Walter had yet to encounter the problem whose solution couldn't be helped along by money.) He wondered idly who the best people to bring in on this were, and how to do it without upsetting Patrick. There had to be a way.

He'd look into it tomorrow.


End file.
